


I am an Angel of the FUCKING LORD, Dean Winchester!

by Zombie_with_a_Chainsaw



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angel Castiel, Angst, Castiel in the Bunker, Developing Relationship, First Kiss, First Time, Human Castiel, Hunter Dean, Hunter Sam, M/M, Men of Letters Bunker, My First Fanfic, Self-Doubt, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-09
Updated: 2017-03-23
Packaged: 2018-09-23 02:35:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 22
Words: 21,599
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9637148
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zombie_with_a_Chainsaw/pseuds/Zombie_with_a_Chainsaw
Summary: Dean and Cas have a little trouble getting on the same page. A confused Sam tries to fix a problem that he doesn't fully understand. The on and off is putting everyone on edge. They have to get their shit together eventually, right?





	1. Hello, Dean.

Dean was drunk. That wasn’t anything new. The only new things were the despicable feelings swirling around in his brain. In truth, those feelings weren’t really new either. But they had always been buried way deep down in the darkest little corners of his little black heart. Now they were bubbling up to the surface. His brain was a roiling storm. Thick thunderheads of fear rumbled across his mind. Lightning bolts of doubt and regret split his heart open with every strike.

“This is bullshit.” He muttered under his breath. Drinking was _supposed_ to be his escape. Every now and then the whiskey would betray him as it did tonight. Instead of a delightful numbness, he was trapped in a maelstrom of emotion. Disgusting. At least it wasn’t really a chick flick moment. Chick flicks usually involved sweetness and tears and heartfelt revelation. His moment was more self loathing, booze, and punching holes into the thin walls of a motel room. 

Sam was out for the night. He had chatted up some sweet young thing at the bar they’d visited earlier. He wouldn’t be back until morning if then. When Dean caught a piece of ass he’d hit it, quit it, and get the fuck out of there. Sam actually let himself care. I mean sure, he’d still leave the next day. It was still a one night stand. But he didn’t run out of the house like his ass was on fire and his long girly locks were catchin’. So, anyway, Dean had long hours to look forward to. He couldn’t sleep. He couldn’t stop thinking. And that was most definitely not a good thing. Thinking too much had never been a good thing for him. He was a man of action for a reason.

His hazy mind started wandering again. Crystal blue eyes floated into view. They bored into him, down to his very core. And those eyes saw him for what he truly was. The being behind those incredibly blue orbs, it knew him. Knew every fault and flaw, and it still deemed him worthy. That divine creature, so wholly good and pure, thought he was something special. Dean knew he was nothing. Less than the dirt he walked on. But Castiel, Angel of the Lord, didn’t agree. Castiel saw a righteous man. He saw a man who would lay down his life for the ones he loved, and even for those he slightly despised. And he would, dammit, Dean would give his last breath to ensure Sammy would be okay. But a part of that was because he didn’t deserve to be alive in the first place. He should have died a long, long time ago. But he kept coming back, and he kept fucking things up worse every time he did.

He couldn’t stop his brain. Images fluttered through his mind on onyx wings. Cas was holding him close against his chest, one hand running gingerly through his sandy hair, the other slung around his waist. That image drifted away and was replaced with something far worse. Now Cas was sprawled across a motel bed. He lay languid and serene, sleeping peacefully.

_‘What the fuck brain, angels don’t sleep'_

His trench coat was on the floor in a rumpled heap and the dress shirt, which was thankfully still on him _this time,_ was half undone. Solid planes of tan flesh peaked out between the expanses of pure white, pristinely clean cotton. And then Dean was there too. Perched on his knees at the bottom of the mattress. _‘Don’t’_ he pleaded but his mind was already traveling down a road he didn’t want to follow. The Dean in Dean’s head crept up the bed on his hands and knees. He came up alongside his perfect angel. 

_‘He’s not yours’._

He slowly lowered his head and rested his brow on Cas’s cheek. He rested his furrowed brow, his rough dirty skin, against the angel’s smooth cheek. And he didn’t stop there. Fake Dean tilted his head and pressed his tainted sinful lips to Cas’s pure, holy mouth. Fake Cas stirred in his sleep but didn’t wake. He willed the image to fade but the scene kept playing out in his mind. He saw himself hesitantly lift one knee off the bed and very carefully slide it over Cas’s waist. Now he was straddling an angel. And with that he couldn’t stop himself from letting out a muffled groan. The angel was still dozing. Dean was hunched over him panting and running curious, delinquent fingers over the chest of a god damn angel. An ANGEL for fuck sake. Who does that? Finally his mind took a turn. The image faded to black as he chastised himself. What was he even doing right now?

_‘Even though this is just in your head, he’s asleep. And why is that Dean? Because if he was awake he would never let it go this far? Or maybe because a sleeping Castiel isn’t as pants-shittingly terrifying? Do you really think he’d smite you if you tried to kiss him? It’s far more likely he’d just zap out and never come back. Fuck I think that’d be worse. It’d probably be better to just die than live with that embarrassment.”_

And just like that the image is back, playing a repeat performance. Dean watches himself creeping up to kiss the angel again. He doesn’t even realize what he’s doing until it’s too late. He rubs the pad of his thumb down his half hard dick, and under his breath he groans “Nnnnhhh… Caaasss”

A fluttering of feathers sounds behind him. “Hello, Dean.”


	2. Chick Flick Moment

“Hello, Dean.” Cas rumbles. Deans drops his hand and spins around a little too suddenly to pretend he’s fine.

“You called out to me Dean, what’s wrong?” He stared that gut wrenching stare, and all the other man could do was drop his head and study his bare feet. “Dean, please tell me what you need my help with, I can’t assist you if you won’t tell me what’s going on.” He reached out and placed a reassuring hand on Dean’s shoulder.

“I’m sorry Cas. It’s not important. I’m just a little fucked up right now.”

“Dean, I realize that you are intoxicated, but if something is bothering you I’m more than willing to offer you my assistance. Please tell me what’s wrong.”

“Cas, man… Why are you so good to me? I don’t deserve it. My drunk ass is bothering you for stupid shit when you’re probably busy, and then you come down here and I can’t even tell you what’s going on. Why do you bother with me?”

“Dean, you deserve far more than I can ever hope to offer you. And so you know, I was not busy. You aren’t inconveniencing me. I’m never too busy for you.”

“Whatever Cas… I’ve just been kind of down tonight. I can’t seem to drown my sorrows, they keep floating.”

“What is it that’s causing you to feel depressed? Perhaps discussing it will help ease your burden. I will do my best not to have a ‘Chick Flick Moment’. I know they displease you.”

Dean chuckles. Then he realizes just how close the two of them are standing. His face takes on a pink tinge as he shuffles back a few steps. Before he can mutter anything about personal space, Cas takes a single step forward, bringing himself right back just as close as before. He raises his hand somewhat hesitantly before placing a single finger under Dean’s chin and tilting his head up so he can lock him into another drilling gaze.

“Please, Dean. Talk to me.”

“Cas… You know how bad I am at this. And I know you want to help but this is something I don’t think you can relate to.”

“You won’t know unless you let me try. I’ve led a long life Dean. The depth of my experience is more than you can fathom. Can’t you let me in, just this once?”

“I thought you said we weren’t gonna have a chick flick moment.”

“Very funny Dean. I only wish to help you.”

“I know man, I know. It’s just… Ah, fuck it. Have you ever wanted something Cas? I mean… Have you ever wanted something you know you don’t deserve? Wanted it so bad it was breaking you apart?”

“Yes Dean. I know that feeling very well. And I’m very curious what it is that you desire, so that I might help you acquire it, but I won’t ask. I know if you wanted to tell me what it is, you would have said it. But what I can do is tell you that I have in fact felt the same way. While I haven’t obtained the object of my desire, I get little bits and pieces that are close enough. And I hold on tight to those moments. I’m not sure if that helps in your situation, but it’s the best I have to offer at the moment.”

“No, Cas, that does help. Thank you. I mean for everything. You’re the only person, well uh… _being,_ that I can really talk to. You’re a better friend than I deserve.”

“Thank you Dean, for all that you’ve done for me as well. And please stop putting yourself down. It’s hurtful to hear you speak of yourself in that way. You’re a good man, Dean Winchester.”

“I’m sorry Cas… I uh… I can’t help myself sometimes.” Dean pauses, staring down at his hands. The angel waits patiently, sensing that he’s not quite done. Sure enough, after a few moments Dean clears his throat and continues. “Do you really want to help me ‘acquire’ this thing I want?”

“Yes, of course Dean. If you wish to disclose your need to me I’ll do what’s within my power to help you fill it.”

He’s not sure how it happened, but at some point during the conversation they had found their way to one of the beds and now they were sitting, almost shoulder to shoulder. Only a few inches separate them and Dean can feel Cas’s heat radiating through him. He had started sobering up but now he was buzzing again, this time not with whiskey but with the warmth and scent of his angel lulling him into a haze. 

Dean shifts closer to Cas, and he puts a finger under his chin just as Cas did to him earlier. Just before he brushes their lips together he whispers “I want _you,_ my angel.”

And then Cas faints.


	3. Panic! At the Motel

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Please leave me comments! I'd love your input, and it's great motivation to keep at it ;)

And then Cas faints. He doesn’t just drop. His eyes go wide, his whole body goes stiff for a brief second, and then his eyes roll back in his head, he goes limp, and he flops sideways onto the floor. Dean just stares down at him for a long bewildered moment. Finally he stoops down and cradles Cas in his arms. He maneuvers him into the bed, laying him out across the mattress. It’s only when he takes a step back that it hits him just how familiar the sight is. Cas is sprawled across the dingy bed, almost like he’s sleeping. Only this time his coat is spread out beneath him and his shirt is buttoned tight.

Dean considers it briefly. He could just climb up there, swing a leg over his angel and start popping some buttons open. But that wasn’t what he wanted. Not like that. And it obviously wasn’t what Cas wanted either. Dean had seen the flash of disbelief and shock in Cas’s face as he froze up just before he dropped.

Dean decided instead to sit himself on the edge of the other bed. He perched there for what felt like hours. Waiting for Cas to stir. Waiting to be told off. Waiting for Cas to berate him and then zap off to who-the-fuck-knows-where. He felt like his head might explode. The walls were looming, his breath was harder and harder to draw into his lungs. He felt like his brain was melting and would start dripping from his ears any second now. _‘Panic attack’_ He realized he needed to calm down before he had a complete meltdown. _‘That’s just what I fucking need right now. I already fucked this up bad enough, I can’t have a pissed off Cas coming to and finding me wigging out in the corner’_

He took another long look at Cas and then threw on his jacket and stepped outside. He locked the door, just in case, and sat down on the edge of the sidewalk. He huffed in long, deep puffs of air. He closed his eyes and counted silently. It wasn’t helping. 

_‘What in the name of fuck is wrong with you? You complete fucking moron! You fuck everything up. You couldn’t just talk to him could you? If you’d just told him how you felt he could have let you down easy. Sure it’d still hurt but maybe you could get past it. At least keep your best friend you mindless dipshit! BUT NO - Dean Winchester can’t talk about his ewwy feelings - so he just plants his big filthy lips on an unsuspecting, and unwilling angel. How do you keep forgetting he’s an angel you idiot. Can’t you keep your big dirty paws to your fucking self? You made an angel faint for shit sake!’_

So, calming down isn’t going so well. Dean decides he needs his Baby. He lifts himself up from the cement and climbs into the Impala. Just a quick spin around the block to ease him down. He cranks up the stereo and rolls the window down, letting the cool breeze wash away the boiling anxiety that’s been cooking his cheeks. He takes a second loop around the block and decides he’s settled enough. He needs to get back to Cas. He’s probably up by now.

He slides Baby back into the same spot she was in just 10 minutes before. He sits for a bit, drumming up the courage he needs to go face down this mess he’s made. Eventually he emerges from the car and slowly strolls up to the door of the motel room where he hesitates again. He leans his arm against the door frame and stares down at his still bare feet. When he finally unlocks the door and quietly steps into the room he finds both of the beds empty. 

“Cas?” There’s no response. “CAS?” He peeks into the open door of the empty bathroom. Cas is gone. Cas is gone and he’ll probably never see him again. He doesn’t deserve to ever see him again.


	4. Fuck Off, Sam

Sam eyes Dean from across the table. His brother is still brooding. It’s been three weeks. Three very long weeks. He’d hooked up with this cute little pixie. Long red hair and sparkling grey eyes. Gabby. That was a VERY fun night. But the next day he’d walked into the hotel room to find a very disheveled, red faced Dean, who was hunched over a tumbler of whiskey at 10 in the morning. Dean wouldn’t speak to him. He tried to push but the only words he could pull out of his brother were angry threats. And so it had gone for 3 weeks. Hardly a word slipped out of Dean’s mouth unless it was some version of “Fuck off, Sam.”

He had realized along the way that this had to be about Cas. Every time he’d so much as speak the angel’s name, Dean would stare daggers at him or get up and leave the room. They’d started working a new case recently, and yesterday they had hit a brick wall in their research. Whatever creature they were after was pulling some crazy shit and leaving such a mess in it’s wake that they couldn’t pull any real clues from the aftermath. When he’d suggested that Dean use his ‘special bond’ to pray them in some divine guidance, Dean had adamantly and vehemently refused to contact Cas. 

 

“Dean.” 

“What?” 

“We need help. We’re going to have to call him in.”

“We don’t need shit. We’ll figure this out like we always do.”

“And how many more people do you think will die while we put the puzzle together? How many more rooms painted in human sludge do you want to poke around in before you give in?”

“No one else is gonna die Sam. Quit being so dramatic. We’ll get on top of it. And I am NOT, FUCKING, PRAYING, TO, HIM.”

“Fine. Whatever.”

Sam stalks out of the room and leans against the outside of the hotel door. He pulls out his cell and texts Cas. 

**\-- We’re stuck man. Can’t figure out what kind of big bad we’re dealing with. Little help? --**

Cas pops into view off to his left, straightening the collar of his trench coat. “How may I be of service to the mighty Winchesters today?” 

Was that sass? Did the ever stoic Castiel just sass him? Now he was getting shit from both sides over an incident he wasn’t even there for!

“Uhh… Sorry to bother you? People are getting turned into human smoothies and used as liquid wallpaper. I just thought you might want to help us figure out what we’re dealing with before any one else gets their bedroom repainted with their own guts.”

“Oh. My apologies Sam. I was under the impression that figuring out what monster is lurking in the night and how to kill it was your job. I guess I was mistaken.”

Sam gave him a hurt look, complete with those big puppy dog eyes. Cas sagged his shoulders and sighed. “Of course I’ll help you.” Cas motioned towards the door and Sam opened it to lead him inside. As soon as Dean caught sight of Cas he stiffened and shot Sam a glare that said _‘You’re dead.’_ But he didn’t actually say a word. Cas turned his back to Dean and addressed Sam. 

“What information have you gathered?”

“Well there are never any witnesses so there’s no description for our creeper. We’ve interviewed some friends and family types and the victims act pretty out of character before they get juiced. One woman was found eating the stuffing out of her couch cushions, and another guy was hoarding cardboard boxes to munch on during his lunch break. This goes on for about 10 days, and then they’re found exploded all over their bedroom walls.”

“Zderonja”

“That’s the monster?”

 

Sam studies Cas’s face. His eyes are cast down to the floor. His brow is drawn tight. He keeps shifting his feet and he hasn’t glanced in Dean’s direction even once. And Dean is pretending to read some of the print outs Sam has already gone over 20 times.

“Yes.” Cas pauses and then adds “I should go.”

Before he can vanish, Sam snaps a hand out and grabs Cas by the arm, earning him a glare that’s both pleading and pissed off.

“I don’t know what happened with you guys, but you two are going to have to fix whatever this is eventually.”

As soon as his grip releases, Cas is gone. Dean jerks his head up, his face twists and for just a moment he looks hurt and disappointed. Then he flees into the bathroom muttering something about a shower.


	5. The Logical Conclusion

These petty emotions are so annoying. He’s entrenched in gloom like some kind of hormonal teen aged human. But Castiel can’t help himself. The very thing he had wanted so desperately, the thing he never thought was even a possibility, it had come and gone so quickly he hadn’t gotten a chance to enjoy the fleeting moment. It took Castiel a ridiculously long time to even realize what he was feeling. It was truly unfamiliar territory for him. And when he’d come to terms with the meaning of the ache in his chest, he’d realized how hopeless he was and resigned himself to silent pining. The very straight Dean Winchester, known ladies man, would certainly never have any interest in him. He was in a male vessel, and in his true form he was without any gender at all, but he had to admit that his personality would be considered very male by human standards, regardless of his physical countenance. 

He was so taken aback when Dean had shown interest in him that he was entirely overcome by the shock of it, never thinking Dean would reciprocate if he were to reveal his desires - let alone to be the one making advances. The sheer magnitude of his emotion in that instant was more than he’d ever felt in his long life, and he’d lost consciousness. That was yet another thing he would have never expected to occur. 

Of course when he’d awakened, Dean was gone. He had checked the parking lot, he peered between the dusty curtains to see the Impala was absent from it’s space. He should have seen it coming. Dean had been very inebriated when he’d called out to Castiel that night. He hadn’t been in proper control of himself. He must have realized what he’d done and run off in a whirlwind of regret. That was the only logical conclusion. Dean had made a drunken mistake and Castiel wouldn’t be able to face him now. What if Dean knew? What if he knew how Castiel really felt and now he’d never look at him the same way again. Not like a friend. And certainly never with the passion he had just before… before everything fell apart.

He couldn’t stay away forever. He had to know. He had to speak with Dean and figure out where they stood. He can’t help hoping that Dean will continue their friendship. He can’t imagine losing him completely. Dean won’t want to talk about this situation in front of his brother, if he can get him to speak of it at all. He decides to wait until the boys are back at the bunker.

Two days pass, and he knows now that the Winchesters have disposed of the creature and made it back to their base. It’s late and Dean will surely be preparing for sleep. He’s alone now, in his bedroom. It’s the best opportunity he’s going to find for this mission, so Castiel pats at his rumpled clothes, smoothing them as best he can, and runs a hand through his hair. Then he lands himself just inside Dean’s bedroom door.


	6. Tell Me What You Want

They’re finally home. It’s still a bit weird having somewhere to call ‘home’. But it’s a nice weird. Dean hauls his duffel in and drops it in his room. He kicks off his boots and pads out to the kitchen in his socks. He needs a beer. Sam is leaning on the counter with two bottles in his hand, and he holds one out towards his brother as he enters the room.

“Thanks Sammy. I’m beat man. I’m just gonna grab a quick shower and then get some sleep.”

“Alright. I’m pretty tired too.” He looks down at the beer in his hand. “I’m sorry. You know I had to right? We needed to put that thing down as fast as possible.”

“Yeah… I know. It’s ok Sam. None of this is your fault. I uh… I’ll see you in the morning.”

Dean takes his shower and throws on a pair of boxers before sliding under the covers. It doesn’t take long for his bastard brain to drift off into dangerous territory. An image pops into his mind, he’s sitting on a chair in the kitchen, and he’s butt naked. Cas is kneeled down in front of him, still in that ridiculous coat, and he has his mouth full of cock. Dean’s cock. Imaginary Dean growls in pleasure and grabs a fistful of dark, soft hair. He pushes Cas further down his length and feels a groan vibrate through his dick in response. 

Back in reality, Dean has already gone from palming himself through his boxers to long, twisting strokes. Just as he’s starting to pick up some real speed, feeling the edge grow closer, he hears that tell tale rustle of feathers and trench coat. But it’s too late. He’s coming. 

“Hello, Dean.”

Cas is walking slowly toward the bed, and Dean rolls away from him so Cas won’t see him coming undone. 

“I’m sorry Dean. If you still don’t wish to speak to me I can leave.”

“Nnna… ugh… No. Casss. I do. We need to talk. You just have horrible timing.”

“I see. Perhaps I should return later?”

“No. Don’t you run off again. Just give me a minute ok? Can you go out in the hall for a few?”

“Yes Dean. I’ll wait outside. But I would like to point out, first, that you are quite skilled at running away yourself.”

Cas huffs and closes the door behind him before Dean can retort. He cleans himself off and tries to calm down as he slips on a pair of jeans and then walks over to open the door. Cas is of course standing right fucking there. He had to have had the tip of his nose pressed against the door before Dean swung it open. He motions Cas into the room and shuts the door behind them before pushing Cas back against the wall and holding him there with a hand against his chest.

 

“You’ve got some fucking nerve just popping into my room whenever you want.”

“Would you rather I show up in the middle of dinner and have this conversation in front of your brother? I assumed you would wish to speak in private Dean.”

“That’s not the point Cas! I let you in, like you practically begged me too, and when you didn’t like what was in there, you ran off and left me. Like you always do. You zapped out and left me there alone.”

“Dean. I woke in an empty hotel room. You were gone, your car was gone. You are the one who ran away and left ME alone! I assumed you realized your mistake and fled.”

“My fucking bag was still there Cas. My boots were by the door. You thought I just left my shoes? I went out to clear my head. When you kiss some one and their immediate reaction is passing out, it kinda fucks with your brain a little bit. But hey, at least I know how you feel now. So I’m sorry for my little ‘mistake’.”

“Dean I… I did not notice your belongings were still in the room. If I had known you would be returning, I would have waited to speak with you.”

“Well it doesn’t really matter does it? You haven’t changed you mind about any of this? You still feel the same?”

“Yes Dean. I still feel the same way about you that I have for quite some time now.”

Dean finally let his hand drop from Cas’s chest. His shoulders fell and he took a few deep, steadying breaths.

“I’m sorry Cas. I have no right to be mad at you. You can’t help how you feel. I shouldn’t have put the moves on you with out knowing if you wanted that. I can’t blame you really. Why would an angel want a filthy human, a broken one at that?”

Cas reached out and clasped his hand around Dean’s wrist. Dean looked on in confusion as Cas raised his hand up to place it back on his chest where it had been for most of the conversation.

“Dean, you misunderstand. I do want you, more than anything. You were quite intoxicated and I thought that you viewed your actions as a mistake. I thought that was why you left.”

“I… what?”

“Dean Winchester, look at me. I want you. I have wanted you for a very long time. I was under the false impression that you regretted our intimate moment, and that you would not want my companionship any longer.”

“Well if you keep calling it an ‘intimate moment’ maybe I will start regretting it.”

“I’ll be sure not to say it again, then. I’ll take anything I can get from you, even if it’s just little bits and pieces . And I’ll hold on tight to those moments, because I need you. I want you, Dean”

The little bulb in dean’s head slowly lights up.

“You.. You were talking about me? I’m the ‘object of your desire’?”

“Yes, Dean. I desire you.”

Dean’s trademark cocky grin slowly creeps across his lips.

“Tell me how you desire me, angel. Tell me what you want.”

Cas blushes. Dean has never seen him turn red like this, and to be honest it’s kind of adorable. The mighty Castiel has his back against a wall, with Dean’s hand pressed into his chest and he’s _blushing._

“I want to watch humorous movies with you and hear you laugh. I’ve never heard a more pleasant noise than your laughter.” 

“Is that all you want, Feathers?”

“No. I also want to learn how to bake pies, and make you a pie every single day so I might see your smile. So that I can witness your joy.”

“Mmmm, now that does sound nice. Anything else you want?”

“Yes.. I… I want you to hold me close. I want to feel your flesh against mine. I want to touch you, and I want you to touch me as well.”

“You want me to touch you Cas? I’m touching you right now. Is this what you want?”

“Dean, I… I want you to touch my penis.”

“Dude… don’t call it your ‘penis’. This isn’t health class.”

“I want you to stroke my dick, Dean.”

Dean reaches his other hand down and cups the bulge in Cas’s pants. All the angel can do is whimper. Dean rubs his hand softly across Cas’s throbbing length and moves the hand that’s on Cas’s chest to the wall beside his head. He leans in close to Cas’s ear and his warm breath grazes the flesh of the other man’s neck.

“Like this?”

“Yes, Dean… fuck, yes.”

A possessive growl rumbles through Dean’s throat as he grabs Cas’s coat and starts pulling it down from his shoulders while steering him towards the bed. When they reach the edge, Cas’s coat falls into a rumpled pile on the floor and he follows Dean’s gruff command to lie down. He sprawls across the mattress and Dean climbs on top of him, straddling his waist. Dean starts to slowly, carefully unbutton Cas’s shirt.

“Is this what you want Cas? Tell me what you want.”

“I… I would like you to tell me what you were doing when I first arrived. Why did you make me wait in the hall way? Is something wrong?”

“No Cas, nothing to worry about. I was just jackin off.”

“You were masturbating? I’m very sorry Dean I didn’t realize I was invading your privacy.”

“Mmmm. It’s fine Cas. I was thinking about you anyway. Now I’ve got the real thing. I really can’t complain.”

“You were thinking of me while you pleasured yourself? What were you picturing Dean?”

“I.. heh. We were in the kitchen.”

“The kitchen here? In the bunker? Was there pie? What were we doing?”

“Yeah we were here in the kitchen, no pie though. I should have thought of that. I was sitting in a chair with you kneeling between my thighs. You had my entire dick shoved down your throat, and you seemed to enjoying yourself.”

“I think I would enjoy that. Can we try it? I want to taste you.”

“Oh, fuck, Cas. That sounds amazing, but not tonight. I think maybe we should try that when we’ve got the place to ourselves.”

“Perhaps that would be wise. I’m more than pleased with what we’re doing right now.”

And with out notice, both men are suddenly and entirely naked. 

“I thought you liked what we were doing?”

“I am enjoying myself but I felt it would be even better this way.”

Dean leaned down and claimed Cas’s mouth. He bit softly at Cas’s lower lip until he opened his mouth to moan and used that opportunity to snake his tongue in. Cas moaned again and his hips bucked up against Dean’s. It only lasted a second and Dean wanted that friction back. He lowered himself to rut against Cas. Their dicks were sliding deliciously smooth against one another, slick with pre-cum. Both of them were panting into the kiss and Dean was struggling for air. 

“Mmm, slow down Feathers. The human needs to breathe now and then.”

Cas blushed a bit, but quickly moved his mouth to Dean’s collarbone, sucking the flesh between his lips and nipping lightly as he went. His hands were gripping Dean’s ass so tight he’d surely leave bruises.

“NNnnnhhhhh, Caaassss.”

Dean was too far gone, getting to feel this with the real Castiel, it was better than anything he could have pictured in his filthy mind. He couldn’t hold out much longer. But before he could worry about coming first, he felt Cas shuddering beneath him.

“Mmmm, SHIT! DEAN!... Deeeaaan.”

The sound of Cas groaning his name and the heat of Cas’s cum on his dick was all Dean needed. He was writhing on top of his angel, his hips stuttered and he whispered Cas’s name over and over while he spurted between them.

The two of them curled against each other on the bed and drifted off. Well Cas wasn’t really _sleeping,_ but he was doing the angelic equivalent and it was close enough to sleep to render him dead to the world.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the first time I've attempted writing smut, and I'm not sure how it went. I think some of it comes off a bit too cheesy - but maybe it's just me. Please, let me know how I did.


	7. Dean SMASH!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> My chapter names are a bit silly... sorry.

Dean stirred hours later. His eyes slowly adjusted to the sight before him. Cas’s face was about 2 centimeters in front of his nose, eyes closed and a tiny smile curled at the corners of his mouth. How exactly did this happen? What the fuck had he been thinking?

_‘Just because you want something that doesn’t make it a good idea. Spilling your poison all over your best friend isn’t a very bright thing to do. As if just being friends with a Winchester wasn’t dangerous enough. Good job pulling him into the flames, numb nuts.’_

Dean extricates himself carefully from the tangle of limbs and paces the length of the room. He brings a hand up to pull at his short spiky locks. He’s starting to feel that unpleasant heat boiling up into his cheeks again. He swipes the back of his hand across his forehead as he slumps to sit with his back against the door. Rubbing at his temple, he looks over at the bed only to find two blinking blue eyes looking back.

“You seem upset Dean. What’s wrong? Did I displease you?” 

“No Cas, you were amazing. That’s part of the problem.”

“I… I do not understand. If you enjoyed our encounter, then why are you distressed?”

“You should know by now, Cas. This can’t work. You can’t get yourself tangled up with a Winchester and expect anything but pain.”

“I’m not feeling particularly wounded.”

“Cas… I don’t want to hurt you. I ruin everything I touch. Every person I care about dies. Including Sam. Including you. I can’t do that to you again.”

“You’re not going to break me Dean. I’m not some fragile toy in the hands of a mischievous toddler. The people you care for don’t meet their ends due to your fondness. You lead a dangerous life and the people you meet are either already involved in this world, or brought into it by forces that are beyond their, or your, control.”

“You don’t get it Cas. I can’t do this to you. I’m poison and the more involved you get, that’s just walking towards the edge a cliff. You need to leave before it‘s too late.”

“Dean I-”

“JUST GO!”

“I am an Angel of the FUCKING LORD, Dean Winchester! I am perfectly capable of taking care of myself, and of making my own decisions! But if you’re going to keep pushing me away then let me help you, like I ALWAYS DO! You don’t want me here? FINE.” 

In a blink Cas is gone. Every trace of him has evaporated except for his imprint in the rumpled sheets. It’s better this way. If Cas is angry, he’ll steer clear of Dean. He’ll be safe.


	8. You're Starting to Smell

The knot that had tangled itself in Dean’s gut was getting tighter. The strands of fear and remorse had wound themselves through his abdomen and now they were pulling harder, more constrictive with every breath he sucked into his burning lungs. It didn’t matter what he did. His life was an endless cycle of impossible situations and bad decisions. Whatever direction he chose, it was always the wrong way. There was no avoiding disaster for a Winchester. 

But, it’s better this way. It has to be. He can learn to live with this gaping hole in his chest if it keeps Castiel away from the walking disaster that is Dean Winchester. He’s fucked shit up enough as it is. If anything happened to Cas because of him, It would be too much. Too heavy to carry.

That perfectly reasonable train of thought doesn’t do anything to alleviate the ache in his chest. Then again, doing the right thing is usually painful, so the hurt he’s feeling only serves to prove him right. He’ll just keep telling himself that.

 

***********

 

The days drag by. Dean’s been doing his best to avoid Sam entirely. He doesn’t want to talk about this. He can’t. When he can't ignore the rumbling of his stomach any longer, he cracks his door a few inches and scans for life in the hallway. Discovering an empty passage, he quietly steps out and shuts the door as gently as he can, easing it closed with just a tiny click. He makes his way stealthily towards the kitchen, socked feet silent on the tile floor.

He swings the fridge door open quietly and ducks down to survey the contents. Some one clears their throat quite loudly behind him. He continues scanning the interior of the fridge and refuses to acknowledge Sam despite numerous loud coughs coming from the kitchen door way.

 

"Dean!" 

Dean still says nothing, but he glances up with that all too familiar _'Fuck off Sam'_ look on his face.

"I haven't seen you in days. What's wrong now? You still pissed that I called Cas in?"

Dean had turned back to the fridge but at the uttering of that name he spins around with a deep scowl cut across his face. "Let it go Sam." Is all he growls out before he flings the fridge shut and stalks back to his room, slamming the door a bit harder than he'd meant to.

 

**********

 

There's a soft knock at Dean's door. He turns his back and buries his head under a pillow. Sam knocks again, a bit louder. 

"I know you're hungry. I made you a couple burgers. Got a beer here too."

Dean gives in and heaves himself out of bed to open the door.

"Dude, you gotta eat. And take a shower. You're starting to smell."

"You wouldn’t have to smell me if you’d just leave me alone."

Sam sighs and sets the tray of food down on Dean’s desk.

"I know you're not gonna talk to me about this, but you should really talk to him. You two need to work this out. I mean what did he do that's this bad?"

Dean screws his face back into a scowl.

"He didn't do anything Sam. I did. I'm always the one fucking things up. And this is none of your damn business, so it'd be great if you'd get the fuck out of my room now."

He punctuates the end the last sentence with a sharp push to Sam's shoulders.

"I'm not gonna let you keep going like this."

"You're not gonna let me? What are you gonna do about it Sammy?" He gives him another little shove. "You gonna text him again? Call in the angel to set me straight?" 

"I'm not gonna force you to talk to him. And I'm not gonna fight you." Sam plucks the Impala's keys from Dean's desk. "I'm gonna leave."

And he does. Sam grabs his jacket, pops on his shoes, and walks out the door.


	9. You Make It Sound Dirty

What ever this bullshit is, it’s gone on far too long already. He knew his brother cared about Cas. He cared more than he’d probably ever admit. He’d never seen this coming. They suddenly seemed to hate each other for no reason at all. Well there had to be a reason, but what could have possibly happened between them to cause this? He was gone for one damn night, and everything fell to shit. He knew it was up to him to try to fix this. Dean had his head way too far up his ass, and Cas was one stubborn dude.

He’d told Dean that he wouldn’t force him to talk to Cas, but he’d never said he wouldn’t speak with the angel himself. So Sam pulls out his phone and texts Cas.

**\--Hey man, we gotta talk. I’m really worried about him--**

Sam tosses his phone on the passenger seat and continues driving aimlessly. He’s starting to think he won’t get a response. Cas can be as much of a brick wall as Dean, when he wants to. But he’s got to do something. He can’t stand being in the bunker with Dean. Knowing he’s hiding, skulking around in there when he thinks Sam won’t catch him. It’s driving Sam absolutely insane. Just as he’s losing himself in thought he hears the soft buzz of an incoming message.

**\--I do not wish to go to the bunker, but if you give me a location I can meet with you in 2 hours--**

This is good. He can work with this. He’d been planning to suggest a place any way. He texts Cas back giving him the address of a nearby motel. He decides to drive there now and get a room. He wants to at least take a nap in peace before he heads back home. He can’t sleep there knowing Dean is sulking in his room. 

 

**********

 

Cas pulls up in a lime green Mini Cooper. Which is really a bit odd, for several reasons, but Sam decides to focus on the task at hand and not let the angel’s choice of transportation distract him.

“Hello Sam. How is Dean? He hasn’t been injured has he?”

“He’s fine physically. Other than his recent lack of personal hygiene. He’s messed up though. I won’t see him for days at a time. He only leaves his room when I’m out or if he thinks I’m sleeping. I know something happened between you but he won’t talk to me. All I got out of him is that he thinks this is all his fault.”

“Technically speaking, it was both of our faults in the beginning, but our continued animosity is mostly his doing.”

“Well what the hell happened? You guys are best friends one day and then you can’t even look at each other.”

Cas shuffles his feet in the loose gravel of the parking lot. “I don’t think Dean would appreciate me telling you the details of our encounter.”

Sam raises an eyebrow. “Encounter? You make it sound dirty Cas. Seriously though, Dean might get mad but you guys don’t seem to be fixing this with out my help. Please just tell me what happened.”

“Perhaps we should go inside?”

Sam nods and leads them into the room, closing the door and motioning for Cas to sit in the small armchair in the corner. He plops himself on the edge of the bed and runs a hand through his hair.

“Okay, spill.”

Cas clears his throat, but he’s just staring at his hands. He shuffles his feet again, rubbing little marks into the dingy carpet. Finally, he brings his gaze up but he focuses on the wall behind Sam, instead of locking him in a Cas-stare.

“The night this all began, your brother called for me and he was very intoxicated. Initially He said that I wouldn’t understand, but after much urging I finally got him to tell me what was wrong. He said he wanted something that he thought he didn’t deserve.” Cas hesitates, glancing at Sam’s face before he bows his head and practically whispers. “He kissed me.”

“He WHAT?”

“Dean said that I was what he wanted. Then he kissed me and I lost consciousness.”

Sam huffs and slaps his hand across his face. “That’s what all this is about? He kissed you and you fainted. Not the reaction he was looking for?”

“I expected you to be more surprised. I certainly was. But no, there is more to the story. Dean was indeed upset by my reaction and he went for a drive to clear his head. When I awoke in the hotel room and realized that both Dean and the Impala were gone, I thought that he regretted his actions and left. Then Dean came back and I was gone so he assumed I had run from him.”

“What are you guys some kinda rom-com now? You’re both ridiculous.”

“There’s more. I saw him again. After the two of you dispatched the Zderonja, I visited Dean at the bunker. I thought we had worked things out. We realized we had both been mistaken about the other’s absence at the motel. Things were going so well. He was so… And then it was over. He pushed me away again. Dean seems to think his affection is going to destroy me.”

“That does sound like Dean. So he thinks giving you a little peck on the lips is going to bring the Winchester curse down?”

“Uh… no, Sam. It was more than that. When I saw him at the bunker…”

Sam raises an eyebrow again and stares at Cas with silent expectation. He’s not going to let him trail off like that. This situation has to end and he wants to know exactly what happened. So he’ll wait as long as it takes for Cas to finish that sentence. And after a long awkward pause, Cas finally clears his throat and meets Sam’s eyes.

“Your brother touched my penis.”

A long series of expressions cross Sam’s face in rapid succession as he sits in stunned silence. _‘Nope nope nope. Didn’t need to hear that sentence. Ever. Should have left well enough alone. Oh god the mental image! Get out of my head!’_

“I’m sorry Sam, but you wanted to know. Dean and I were… close, that night. And it was everything I’d wanted. But he regrets it, and I do not.”

Sam finally finds his voice “Cas, that was a bit too much detail dude. But I get it now. I kind of suspected there was something more between you guys but I never thought that was what was going on here.” He lets out an exasperated huff. “I promised Dean I wouldn’t force him to talk to you, but you need to do something. He’s too stubborn to admit he’s wrong - but he is. Even if he doesn’t know it yet. Please Cas, go talk to him, he’s a mess.”

“I’m sorry Sam. I don’t believe Dean would be pleased to see me. And I’d rather he not see me in this state. I have to go.”

Sam gets up and opens the door for Cas. “I hope you change your mind. He needs you.”

Cas climbs back into his ridiculous little car and pulls away from the motel. Sam stands there for a while, watching the angel disappear down the road. Eventually he lets out a long sigh and decides to take a nice hot shower, hoping it will relax him enough to get that nap he’d been hoping for.


	10. Sammy Knows Best

Sam’s nap didn’t go so well. He’d spent several fitful hours trying to doze but he couldn’t stop thinking. Dean is such an absolute ASS. Either get with the angel or don’t. Cas doesn’t deserve to get yanked around like this. The poor guy has never been in any kind of relationship and he goes and falls for Dean of all people. He’s about as emotionally available as a fucking cabbage. 

Part of him is glad that Dean went for it, even if he immediately back-peddled. He’s weirdly proud of him for having the guts to try, even if the decision was lubricated with alcohol. _‘Oh god, don’t think about lube!’_ The fact that Dean had expressed that kind of affection in the first place was the most surprising part of all this. 

How the hell he was going to even try to fix this was beyond him. Getting Dean to talk would be anything but easy. But he’s got to try, because Dean deserves this - even if he doesn’t think so. With all the shit in their lives, Dean deserves a little happiness. The same goes for Cas. So Sam decides that as weird as it sounds in his head, he’s going to hook his brother up with the angel. 

He abandons his attempted nap and heads for home. He stops along the way to grab some whiskey. Maybe a little alcohol will make this easier. It had set this ball rolling, so maybe it could get it rolling again.

 

**********

 

Sam only has to take one step into the bunker before he realizes something is wrong. Something is very, very wrong. He pulls out his knife and creeps through the halls. He scans the rooms, one by one, surveying the damage as he goes. Pieces of jagged wood that used to be furniture are littering the floor. There’s shreds of paper and fabric, shards of glass and porcelain. It looks like a tornado tore through the place. 

As he prowls toward the door of one of the many bathrooms, he hears movement inside. The door is slightly ajar, so he tries to peer through the gap before rushing in. He spots a thin line of plaid and denim. He flings the door open and rushes toward his brother, fearing the worst.

Dean is hunched in the corner between the toilet and the wall. He’s passed out and covered in vomit. Sam tries to wake him but he just groans and swats a lazy hand at him. He drags Dean into the shower stall and turns on the cold water. Dean sputters and thrashes his way back into consciousness. The angry grimace on his face softens as soon as he spots Sammy.

“You came back?” Dean slurs.

“Of course I came back, idjit.”

Sam realizes he didn’t need the supplies he’d picked up, Dean was plastered. And then he realizes that Dean is the tornado. He’s the force of destruction that tore through the bunker - because he thought Sam was really leaving, not just going out for some fresh air.

“Sammy I- I’m so sorry. I broke the bunker. I broke everything. I ruin everything.”

“It’s okay Dean, I kind of stormed out of here. I should have told you I was coming back.”

Dean reaches up and wraps Sammy in a big bear hug, which would be nice if it wasn’t for the fact that he was rubbing puke all over his little brother’s shirt.

“Dean, I’m not gonna leave. Never again. Now let’s get you cleaned up okay?”

He turns the hot water on in the shower to warm it up, and pulls Dean’s up-chuck covered flannel off of him. Dean swears he’s ok to do the rest, and Sam grabs him a towel before going to change his own shirt and then wait in the kitchen.

Fifteen minutes later, Dean emerges. He’s much cleaner but obviously still very drunk. He flops down in the chair opposite Sam, and plants an elbow on the table so he can prop his head up with one hand.

“I know I told you I wouldn’t make you talk to Cas. So I went and talked to him myself.”

Dean stays quiet, looking down at the table, with an unreadable expression pulling his features tight.

“He told me everything. And you’re not allowed to get mad at him for that so don’t even start. I made him tell me.”

Dean’s expression doesn’t change but he’s a few shades more pink than he was a moment ago.

“I got a bit more detail from Cas than I was bargaining for. And I don’t ever need to hear those things again, but they need to keep happening.”

Dean frowns, doubt painted clearly across his face, but he still doesn’t speak so Sam continues.

“I know how much you blame yourself for every little fucking thing, but you’re aren’t a monster. You’re a good man. Sure you’ve fucked up, but we all have. Me, you, Cas… we’ve all fucked up pretty severely. But we’re only trying to do the right thing. We don’t do what we’re told, and we don’t do what’s easy. We try to do what we think is right. That’s what matters.”

Sam pauses, giving Dean a chance to interject. His brother remains uncharacteristically silent. 

“You deserve a little happiness Dean. Cas does too. You should let him decide if he wants to risk provoking the Winchester curse. We both know just how capable he is of taking care of himself. So here’s what you’re going to do. You’re gonna sober up. You’re gonna pray to your angel - get his feathery ass over here, and then you’re going to make amends. After you apologize for being a giant douche, you will listen to him and let him make his own decision.”

Dean doesn‘t speak, but he slowly nods his head. Sam rises and claps his big palm onto Dean’s shoulder. He helps him stand and walks with him to his bedroom before pausing to deliver his last piece of advice.

“You’re fucking this up by trying not to fuck it up. Just be happy for once in your life.”

He watches Dean walk in to his room and closes the door behind him. Then Sam gets the first solid night of sleep that he’s had in a very long time.


	11. Too Late

Dean wakes to the rhythm of pistons pounding away in his head. His mouth is dry, and his eyes are crusty. There’s a little trail of drool that’s dried onto his chin. It’s almost noon and he knows he should get up and take another shower. He can still smell spew on himself. He lies there instead, the events of the previous evening tumbling through his throbbing head. He’d really made a mess of things this time, literally and figuratively. He didn’t want to face Cas, but he would. Sam was right after all, Cas was a grown man, or rather an older-than-dirt celestial being. If anyone could handle themselves, it was him. He’d pray to Cas, he’d let him have his say, but not now. Right now he needed some aspirin and about 3 gallons of water.

He slowly peeled himself from the sweaty sheets and made his way to the bathroom. He found the pain killers and popped a couple in his mouth before leaning down to drink straight from the sink for a few minutes. Once his thirst subsided, he dropped his clothes on the tile floor and hopped in the shower.

As the hot water cascaded down his back, his mind wandered. Maybe this could work. He certainly wouldn’t mind acting out a few more of his daydreams with the angel. He remembers how Cas’s eyes lit up when he’d described the kitchen scenario, and how eager his angel had been to try it. 

He’s already half hard, and his brain is flooding with images of Castiel underneath him, writhing against him. He hears his name rumbled out in a gravely moan, and the sound loops over and over again in his mind. Fuck does he want to hear that again. He wants to find out what other delicious noises he can pull from those angelic lips. 

He wraps a hand around himself, and strokes slowly. In his mind he conjures up a new fantasy: His Baby is parked in the middle of a vast field, under a star sodden sky. Cas is leaning against the trunk, and Dean is pounding into him. He watches himself thrusting, their bodies sliding together. 

This is definitely a fantasy he’d never thought he’d have, but he’s thoroughly enjoying it. His pace picks up speed and he’s right there on the verge. He imagines Cas calling out his name, and as he comes he can’t keep himself from moaning the angel’s name. Luckily, this time, there’s no rustle of feathers behind him.

 

**********

 

“I’m gonna talk to him Sam, I mean it. I’m just not ready yet.”

“When?”

“Later. I’m still a little strung out. Let me finish cleaning up the mess from my freak out. I’ll do it tonight.”

The guys spend the afternoon clearing the debris. They don’t really say much to each other, but this isn’t the tense silence they’ve been sharing so much lately. Dean is lost in thought- regret over the rampage that Sam shouldn’t be helping him clean up, and apprehension for the conversation he’s dreading with Cas. Sam on the other hand realizes that he’s gotten a lot out his brother and doesn’t want to push his luck. 

 

**********

 

It’s already pretty late when they finally get the bunker back in order, but it’s not like angels sleep, so Dean has no excuse to get himself out of this. He leaves Sam in the library and heads for his room. Dean gets into his Pjs- a pair of sweats and an old tee shirt. After a glance in the mirror, he peels the shirt back off and adjusts the sweat pants a little lower around his hips.

“Hey Cas, can you get your butt down here? We need to talk.”

Nothing happens.

“Listen Feathers, I’m sorry for before. Just fly your ass in here so we can kiss and make up.”

Still nothing. He’s not really surprised, Cas was pretty pissed off when he zapped out that night.

“Castiel, angel of the ‘fucking lord’, please come and see me. I’m sorry that I’m an idiot. I promise not to be a jack ass this time.”

He waits a minute this time, but the angel still doesn’t appear. 

“Cas please. I’m begging you here. Give me another chance.”

No angel. Maybe he pissed him off even more than he realized. Maybe Cas was done with him. Now that Dean finally pulled his head out of his ass, it was too late. That’s how his life usually went.

“I need you, Feathers. Don’t leave me hanging here. Please Cas.”

He tries and tries, but Cas doesn’t come. He keeps praying, every one a bit more desperate than the last. Nothing works. Cas isn’t listening. He’s not coming back. 

An hour has passed and Dean finally gave up. He’s sitting cross legged on his bed with his head buried in his hands. There’s a soft knock on the door and Sam pokes his head in without waiting for an invitation. Dean lifts his head, his eyes are rimmed red and brimming with unshed tears.

“Not now Sammy. Just go to bed.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please leave me comments. This is my first fic and some feedback would really help. Let me know how I'm doing :)


	12. The Humanity

Sam strolls into the kitchen the next morning to find Dean cooking bacon and eggs. There’s even coffee brewing in the pot. Dean glances over at him “Morning Goldilocks” and then turns back to the stove. Sam takes his seat and a few minutes later there’s a big pile of eggs on a plate in front of him. “You want toast?” Sam nods. Dean goes about sticking bread in the 4 slot toaster and filling a couple mugs with fresh coffee. The toast pops up just as he’s sitting the mugs on the table, so he grabs that too and plops a couple slices in front of his brother before sitting down to munch at his breakfast. 

Everything is so normal, so mundane. It should not be normal right now. The image of Dean’s red sorrow filled eyes is still burning in Sam’s mind. He knew last night hadn’t gone well, but the fact that Dean was putting on a show - trying to feign normalcy- that was worrisome. He’d managed to get through to him when he was drunk, but now that Dean was sober he was back to shoving everything down. The walls were back up, and he might not be able to break them down as easily this time.

Sam waits until they’ve finished eating before he finally clears his throat and breaks the silence. “So uh… You planning on telling me what happened last night?”

“Don’t worry about it Sam. I’ll be fine.”

“I’m already knee deep in this, so you might as well just tell me. I’m not gonna let it go.”

“There’s nothing to tell Sam. He never came.”

Sam watches Dean’s shoulders slump lower as he dumps the dirty dishes in the sink and turns the water on. He’d been hoping that this would all be cleared up by now, but things were never that easy. At least Dean was talking. He wasn’t expecting that. By the look of him, the man was probably too tired to fight at this point.

“Well what did you say? Were you being an ‘assbutt’ again?”

“Sammy I- I tried. I really tried. I was practically begging. He’s not coming back.”

Dean shuts the water off ands makes for the door, trying to flee from the conversation. 

“Dean, wait.” 

Dean pauses in the doorway but doesn’t turn around.

“Dean, Cas wouldn’t do that. He wouldn’t just ignore you. What if he _can’t_ answer you?”

“You mean like he got snatched or something? Fuck… I- I never even thought of that.”

“There has to be a reason he didn’t answer. Did you trying calling his cell? I’ll see if I can get him.”

As Sam waits, listening to the phone ring, Dean had walked back into the kitchen and now he was pacing the length of the room, fists clenching at his sides. It went to voicemail.

“Hey Cas, it’s Sam. Call me back when you get this.”

Sam’s up and pacing now too. Dean looks like he’s about to punch a hole in the wall when Sam’s cell buzzes. They both rush over and Sam snatches it up off the table.

**\--What do you need?--**

Sam hurriedly types back.

**\--Are you okay? Is something wrong?--**

**\--I’m fine Sam. Why do you ask?--**

Sam turns so his brother can’t see the screen.

**\--Dean was praying for you last night. Why are you ignoring him? He said he was practically begging you and you never came.--**

**\--I couldn’t hear him--**

**\--What do you mean you couldn’t hear him? I thought you said nothing was wrong.--**

**\--I am fine, Sam. I’ve been human before I can take care of myself.--**

Sam brings up Cas’s number and calls him again. This time he picks up.

“What do you mean human? What happened Cas?”

“It’s of no consequence Sam.”

“You gotta come back to the bunker Cas. Come stay with us.”

“I wouldn’t wish to burden you both with another broken thing to look after. Tell Dean he needn’t worry about ruining me, I’ve taken care of that myself.”

Cas hung up. Sam turns to Dean, ready to relay what Cas had told him, but Dean holds his palm up. “I heard him.” And then Dean is gone too. Sam is left standing in the kitchen by himself, staring down at his phone on the table.


	13. Come Home

Dean pours himself another glass. He’s not really certain how many he’s had at this point. Not enough, that’s for sure. He’s been chasing that beautiful numbness all night, but he still feels the empty hole aching in his gut. He downs the whiskey, and then another, and another. It’s just not going to work. He sighs and pulls his phone from his back pocket. He stares at the home screen for a while. It’s a shot of the two of them that Sam had snapped when they weren’t paying attention. In the photo, Dean has a hand on Cas’s shoulder and both men have big genuine smiles spread across their faces. The corners of Cas’s mouth are raised only slightly, but he’s all teeth and he’s got those adorable crinkles around his eyes. You can see his dimples too. Dean’s only seen those dimples a few times - when Cas is really grinning like a fool. He can’t remember what they were talking about, or why they were so happy, but it’s the best picture he’s ever seen in his life.

He finally opens his contact list and clicks on Cas’s name. He hesitates again, staring apprehensively at the screen before pressing the text message icon.

**\-- Hey Cas. I know you’re pissed at me. I’m really sorry man. I shoulda listened to you. I’m always fucking everything up. Please just talk to me.--**

Dean sits down on his bed and starts typing again.

**\--You know I’m an idiot. I was being a jackass before. I’m sorry Cas. I can’t stand you being gone. I meant it when I told you that you’re family. But it’s more than that, you’re my best friend. Even if it’s never anything more than that, I can’t lose my best friend. Please come back. You can stay here. At least call me. I need to hear your voice.--**

He waits for a response. The longer he waits, the worse the ache burns in him. He polishes off the rest of his bottle trying to dull the sting of it. He gets his phone out to text Cas again but he doesn’t trust his fingers. He presses the call button but it goes straight to voicemail.

“Hey Feathers, I miss you dude. I’m so, so sorry. Please man, you gotta forgive me. I’ll get down on my knees and beg if that’s what it takes. I’ll kneel down and kiss your feet. I’ll do anything you want. Please come back. I need you, Cas. Just come home.”

Dean passes out with the phone still nestled against his cheek.


	14. Would?

Cas blinks awake to the burn of sunlight in his eyes. He groans in irritation and drags himself up into a sitting position. This sleeping arrangement was doing horrible things to his vessel. His body. He could feel the tightness in every muscle of his back. He’d spent the last few nights curled up in a ball in the back seat of the little green Mini Cooper. It wasn’t spacious by any stretch of the imagination, and it most certainly was NOT comfortable. The center of his lower back was especially tender from the seat belt latches digging in to him all night. 

He steps out into the morning light, rubbing grumpily at his eyes, and moves himself to the drivers seat. He has much to do today. His cellular phone’s battery had run out of charge the day before and he needed to obtain a charging cord that was adapted for use in a vehicle. He was also starting to run low on funds. He would need to find a town he could settle in for a while so he could procure employment before he spent the last of his cash. It was very fortunate that he had any money to begin with. That was Dean’s doing of course. He’d made sure that Cas had access to a few of the boys’ emergency stashes - just in case. Each of these reserves had cash and weapons, as well as three small bags (one for each man) that contained a change of clothes and fraudulent identification cards. Cas had only taken half the money, worrying that Dean would need to use that cache and find it depleted. He had also taken his bag with the clothing and I.D. because he would need to provide identification to gain employment. He was unsure why Dean had chosen the name ‘Layne Staley’. Once he purchased a charging device, he would use the Google to find out who this person was. 

 

**********

 

It was late afternoon by the time Castiel managed to charge his phone. The young man at the store, Tristan, had been very helpful in selecting the correct cable. He had been very curious as to how long ‘Layne’ would be staying in the area. Just as Castiel was about to leave, Tristan had handed him a piece of paper with his phone number scribbled on it. He had also stopped into a few shops after wards to inquire if they were hiring. 

Cas plugs his phone in and waits for the battery to charge a bit before powering it on. He’s surprised to see that he has several text messages and a voicemail, all from Dean. He decides to read the texts first.

**\-- Hey Cas. I know you’re pissed at me. I’m really sorry man. I shoulda listened to you. I’m always fucking everything up. Please just talk to me.--**

**\--You know I’m an idiot. I was being a jackass before. I’m sorry Cas. I can’t stand you being gone. I meant it when I told you that you’re family. But it’s more than that, you’re my best friend. Even if it’s never anything more than that, I can’t lose my best friend. Please come back. You can stay here. At least call me. I need to hear your voice.--**

Dean isn’t an idiot. A jackass, yes sometimes that was a quite fitting description. He could be quite uncooperative and stubborn. Castiel wants so much to return to the bunker. He also considers Dean his best friend and he’s been feeling increasingly distressed the further he drives from the Winchester’s base. But he still isn’t sure that staying there is a wise decision. He’s certain that he can no longer settle for just being friends with Dean. Now that he’s felt Dean’s lips on his, felt the muscles flexing under Dean’s skin as they tangled together in the throes of passion. He’ll always want that. It would be torture to be so close to Dean every day but never close enough. 

He desires to hear Dean’s voice as well. He’ll listen to the voice message and then call him back. Their last few interactions have left him feeling guilty for the anger he expressed. He was hurt, but that was no excuse for hurting Dean. The man had endured enough in his life. He sighs and clicks on the icon that will replay the message.

“Hey Feathers, I miss you dude. I’m so so sorry. Please man, you gotta forgive me. I’ll get down on my knees and beg if that’s what it takes. I’ll kneel down and kiss your feet. I’ll do anything you want. Please come back. I need you, Cas. Just come home.”

It is indeed quite soothing to hear Dean’s voice. Apologizing over the phone doesn’t seem like enough any more. Castiel starts the car and sets off towards the bunker. He’s managed to wander quite far and he’ll have to stop for rest at some point, but he’s going back. He probably won’t stay. He has to see him again, to hear his voice and gaze in to those shimmering emerald eyes. But he won’t stay.

 

********** 

 

After driving for several hours the previous evening, Castiel had stopped at a run down motel and rented a room for the night. The musty room reminded him of his favorite humans. It was like so many other rooms he’d visited. In many of those rooms he’d found one brother or the other broken and bleeding, sometimes on the edge of death. Many times he’d gone just to watch over them. They usually didn’t even know he was there, but those were still some of his favorite memories. When the boys managed to slumber with out night mares, it was a glorious thing to behold. Their faces never looked so relaxed and peaceful when they were awake.

Castiel was packing his few meager belongings back in to his duffel bag when he noticed the little green light on his phone blinking. There’s a new text message from Dean.

**\--I’ll do anything, I mean it. You remember that kitchen thing I told you about? I’ll kick Sammy out for the night. We can even do it the other way around. I’d do anything you want. Just please come home.--**

Castiel feels himself flush, and that familiar heat pools in his abdomen. Perhaps there’s still hope. If Dean is offering what he thinks he is, then he will certainly accept. There’s a nagging voice in the back of his mind that’s doubtful. What if this is just to get him there? What if this is just a one time offer? There’s no promise for a continued relationship. But if Dean is interested in being intimate again, then surely there’s reason to hope. 

He throws his duffel in the back seat and practically peels out of the motel parking lot. As he speeds down the highway he can’t help but marvel at the fact that Dean has referred to the bunker as Castiel’s home twice now. He imagines a life there, with the two men he cares so deeply for. It would be nice to belong somewhere again, to have a home. He’d acknowledged a while back that he would probably never feel more at home than when he visited the Winchesters in the bunker. To imagine actually living there with them had never occurred to him as an angel. Even when he had informed Sam of his current human state, he’d assumed the offer to stay with them had been meant as a temporary solution. But Dean hadn’t asked him to come stay with them, he’d begged him to _come home._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I named this chapter "Would?" because I was listening to that song while I wrote it and the lyrics kind of resonated with this part of the story. Plus I'm a huge Alice In Chains fan. Here's part of the lyrics if you're not familiar:
> 
> Into the flood again  
> Same old trip it was back then  
> So I made a big mistake  
> Try to see it once my way
> 
> Am I wrong?  
> Have I run too far to get home?  
> Have I gone?  
> And left you here alone?
> 
> Am I wrong?  
> Have I run too far to get home?  
> Have I gone?  
> And left you here alone?  
> If I would, could you?


	15. Reunion

It was almost 2 am when Cas finally pulled into the garage. He’d had to stop repeatedly to find sustenance or relieve himself. His was most thoroughly annoyed with being human when at one point he had gotten a muscle cramp in his buttock of all places. He’d had to pull over and spent almost 20 minutes walking and stretching before he could continue his journey. He had wished he could just fly himself to the bunker in an instant like he used to. With every passing moment he grew more convinced that Dean would change his mind. He’d drive all this way with a head full of dreams just to be rejected again. Now that he’s finally here, he’s scared to go in. 

After a few minutes of deliberation, he walked to the massive metal door and knocked. No one answered, and he realized that Sam and Dean could be deep in the bunker or perhaps sleeping. He knocked again, this time pounding loudly on the thick steel. It swung out almost immediately. Dean was holding the door open, staring with wide eyes and an open mouth. Sam was a few steps behind him and he smiled brightly when he spotted Cas.

“I heard you the first time” Dean muttered. He grabbed Castiel by the front of his coat and drug the stunned angel inside, letting the door fall shut behind them. Castiel was a little scared when Dean shoved him back against the wall, but he immediately leaned in, cupped the angel’s chin in his hand and crushed their lips together. Castiel had hardly registered what was happening when Dean thrust his tongue into his mouth and pulled himself in closer so that their bodies were pressed tight against one another. 

Castiel let out a needy whimper as he wrapped his arms around Dean and grabbed two palms full of lean muscular ass. He spotted Sam out of the corner of his eye. The younger Winchester was making a hasty, silent retreat back towards his room. Castiel was momentarily distracted by the thought that this was probably very uncomfortable for Sam and something he wouldn’t want to witness. Then his mind was overcome with bliss as Dean’s teeth skimmed down the soft flesh of his throat. Dean brought his head back up and rested his forehead against Castiel’s. They stood there, basking in each other’s heat and drinking in each other’s panted breaths.

Dean finally pulled himself back and grabbed him by the wrist. He snatched Castiel’s duffel from the floor and led him down the hall. He opened the door of his bedroom and pulled Castiel inside with him before dropping the bag in the corner.

“I really missed you Feathers, but I’m so tired right now. Can we just get some sleep and we’ll hash this out in the morning?”

“Yes, Dean. I drove for many hours today and I’m quite tired myself.” He went to pick up his bag but Dean caught his wrist again. 

“No, Cas. Don’t go.” The angel tilted his head in confusion. “I mean I- I want you to stay here, with me. In my room.”

Castiel nodded, and shrugged off his coat and jacket, lying them over the back of a chair. Dean had already stripped down to his boxers and was climbing back into the bed. He looked up at the angel and patted the other side of the mattress in invitation. Castiel hesitated for a moment before removing the rest of his clothing until only his boxers remained. He climbed under the covers and lied on his back. Dean nudged him, “Roll on your side, so your back is to me.” Cas did as he was asked and he was a bit confused as to why Dean would have him turn away from him. Before he can start to worry, he felt Dean slide closer. Dean scooted himself in until his chest was pressed firmly against Castiel’s back and the bend of his hips was cradling the smaller man’s bottom. Castiel hummed in contentment and relaxed back into the warm body behind him. Dean nestled his face in soft, tousled hair and positioned himself so that his mouth was right next to Castiel’s ear. He whispered “Don’t you ever leave again. I need you here, Feathers.” And then promptly started snoring.

 

**********

 

Cas woke when he felt the heat dissipate behind him. He rolled over and watched Dean get dressed. He let out an appreciative hum as Dean stretched his achy muscles before sliding a black tee over his head. The hunter slid a red flannel over the tee before leaning over the bed to rub his thumb across the scruff of Castiel’s jaw. “Go back to sleep, Angel. I’ll be in the library.”

He stirred again a few hours later and shrugged on an old tee and some sweatpants that he pilfered from Dean’s dresser. He still wasn’t used to the groggy headed unpleasantness left behind by slumber. A stop in the kitchen to fetch some coffee should help, so he helped himself to a fresh mug before finding his way toward the library. When he drew near the door he could hear the brothers’ voices drifting from within.

“Sam, we have to find it. We have to help him.”

“I know, but we have to be smart this time. We tend to run in guns blazing when some one’s in trouble and we usually make a huge mess that way.”

“I’m not saying we make a deal or something stupid, but we gotta find a way. I mean, it’s Cas.”

“He’s my friend too ya know. I might not be making out with him any time soon, but I still care about him. I’m just saying we need to buckle down and come up with a plan. We don‘t even know where to start.”

Castiel waited for a few minutes of silence to pass before he entered the room, hoping that they wouldn’t realize he’d been eavesdropping. He still had a little smiled curled across his lips from hearing Sam speak so fondly of him. The brothers both looked up at him with curious faces as he settled himself in a plush armchair in the corner. 

“Mornin, Feathers.” Dean said with a tiny smirk. “We’re trying to figure how to track down your mojo, but we could really use a starting point. You know who siphoned your juice?”

“No one took my grace, Dean. It just faded away. I’m not sure how much help I can really be. I am completely human at this point. I can’t hear my brethren any more.”

“Well do you have any idea why it fizzled out?” Sam chimed in.

“I’m afraid not.” Castiel lied. “I just felt it fading. I know you will both want to retrieve it, but I’m fine as I am. I don’t want you to put yourselves in danger.”

“Well Cas, danger is kinda what we do. We’re gonna get you your mojo back, but we’ll try not to kill ourselves along the way.”

“That would be preferable.”


	16. Freckles

Sam and Dean had spent most of the day doing research. They had pulled every script they could find that had information on heaven or angels. They searched online for any strange news reports that could point to fallen angels or heavenly discord. The hours seemed to drag by more slowly as the brothers grew more irritated. They hadn’t made any head way at all. There was no indication that anything was wrong in Heaven, _(because it wasn’t),_ and none of the books they pored over were helpful. 

As the three of them were polishing off the last morsels from their dinner plates, Cas spoke for what seemed like the first time since that morning.

“I think you two have surely done enough for one day. I was hoping we could relax for the rest of the evening. Perhaps we could watch a film.”

“I’m beat.” Sam says with an exaggerated sigh. “I think I’ll just read in my room for a while.”

“We’ve been reading all day, nerd. I’m on board for movie night.”

After the dishes were washed and put away, Sam headed off on his own and the other two found themselves back in Dean’s bedroom. Cas picked out a movie called ‘Happy Gilmore’ from the stack, assuming it was a comedy, and they climbed into the bed to watch it on Dean’s lap top. Cas spent most of the movie staring at Dean. The plot made little sense to him and he didn’t find the humor in a grown man shouting profanities at little plastic balls. He did however find Dean’s laugh to be infectious. He marveled at the little crinkles around his eyes and the way his skin tightened when he grinned, accentuating the curve of his jaw line. He could never tire of this, being nestled tightly against Dean’s side watching him laugh and grin. 

As the credits rolled, Dean leaned down to give Cas a soft kiss on his forehead. “This is nice Cas. Just getting to kick back and relax.”

“I agree Dean. Your bed is quite comfortable as well.”

“Well it’s not my bed any more is it? It’s _our_ bed. I mean unless you want your own room. I was hoping you’d just stay in here with me.”

“I know you value your personal space Dean, but if you want me to stay, I would like nothing more than live here in your room.”

“Our room.”

Castiel grinned and wiggled in tighter against Dean’s side. He slung an arm across Dean’s waist and hummed happily.

“I uh- I haven’t really apologized yet.”

“Dean, there’s no need. We both were being a bit unreasonable.”

“No, Cas. You said it yourself when you talked to Sam. This whole mess was mostly my fault. I’m no good with this relationship shit. I’ve got to say this while I can. I- I just want you to know that I do respect you and I know that you’re perfectly capable, whether you’ve got your mojo or not. I’m just terrified of losing you. Nothing could be worse than living without you or Sammy. You two are the most important things in my life. I know I was been being a dick before, but I was just terrified that I’d get you killed.”

“Dean yo-”

“Wait, Cas. Let me finish. I don’t know if I’ll be able to get this out if I don’t do it now. I’ve felt- Well, I’ve felt an attraction to you pretty much from the first time we met. I’ve been shoving it down just like I do with everything. But drunk Dean stirred everything up to the surface, and after that night we were, well, ‘together’. I had to come to terms with the fact that you actually felt something too. I wasn’t expecting that and it threw me. I’m sorry I pushed you away. The last thing I want is to hurt you. You gave up everything for me and I don’t want you to hurt any more on my account. I’m ready now to let this happen, as long as it’s what you want - but I need this to go slow. I’ve never been with a dude, or an ex-angel for that matter. And I might freak out again but just don’t listen to me. I’ll cool off. But don’t you ever fucking leave again, no matter how much of a dick I am. I need you here with me. I have to know you’re okay.”

“Dean, I promise I will not run off again, now that I know you want me here. I left because I didn’t think I could be here with you and not be _with_ you. I discovered while I was away that being apart from you is a worse scenario than any other. While I still desire to have a physical relationship, I know that just being in your presence is preferable to being separated. I do wish to continue our romantic relationship. I don’t think I’ve ever wanted anything more. I know I’ve never wanted any other being the way I desire you. I will try my best to let this progress slowly, but my libido is sometimes quite overpowering.”

Dean chuckles and rubs his chin into the tangled mess of Cas’s perpetual bed head. 

“My libido likes you too, Feathers.”

It was silent for a while, the two men just enjoying the moment. Times like these would be few and far between. Getting Dean to actually talk about his feelings was a rare event and he knew it himself just as well as Cas did. Eventually Castiel was the one to break the silence.

“I like it when you call me Feathers. Although I’m human now and I no longer posses any feathers, I enjoy having you refer to me with an affectionate nick name. I was hoping maybe I could have a pet name for you as well.”

“I dunno Cas, what you got in mind?”

“I had thought of ‘Honey’, but it seems cliché.”

“You are not calling me honey. I know you got some weird thing for bees but I am NOT okay with that.”

“I figured you would be uncomfortable with it. I had also considered ‘Flannel’. Your name for me has to do with a physical characteristic, and you usually adorn yourself with flannel.”

“Well, I’d say that one’s a bit better, but Sam wears flannel just as much as me. You might weird him out.”

Castiel was quiet for a long time. He had his head tilted in thought, which was one of those classic Cas things Dean would never tire of. Suddenly Cas turned his head to Dean with a shy smirk and glimmering eyes.

“I think I’ve found the perfect name for you. It’s something that isn’t entirely unique to you, but it does not apply to Sam. It’s also one of my favorite things about you. There are many things I like about you though, so if you don’t like it I can think of something else.”

“Well, spit it out then. What is it?”

“Can I call you Freckles?”

“Uh, yeah I guess. That one’s fine by me.”

“I love you Freckles.”

Dean couldn’t bring himself to say it out loud, so he wrapped Cas in a firm hug and kissed him passionately. He kissed down the angel’s neck and nipped at his jaw before returning their lips to each other. He tried desperately to convey himself through touch. He knew he loved Cas, loved him more purely than he’d thought he was capable of, perhaps even more than he loved his little brother. He just couldn’t seem to force the words out of his mouth.


	17. Castiel, the BAMF

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was adding regularly before and I apologize for the wait, but I'm not abandoning this. I've had some difficult crap going on in the real world, so the inspiration to write has been hard to come by. I can't promise when, but there will be more for this fic. It's my first attempt and I've sworn myself to finishing it. That said, your comments and kudos are always appreciated and give me an extra push to work on this! Thank you to every one who has read my crappy ramblings.

Over the last two weeks, Sam has become even more of an early riser than he was before. He was glad his brother was finally letting himself be happy, but he didn’t need to be witness to the Dean and Cas show. They weren’t bad most of the time, but first thing in the morning they were all over each other. He had been a major player in them getting together and he didn’t regret it one bit. It was still a bit weird that his brother and their best bud were an item but he was getting used to it. He just couldn’t be around them when they were having their early morning slap and tickle fest. He would inevitably wonder what they had been doing before they emerged from their room and he had too many horrors etched in his brain already without creating new imaginary images of those two getting hot and heavy. Better to snatch his food early and eat it in his room.

 

After they got their breakfast, they were usually pretty tame the rest of the day. They were actually kind of cute together. He liked to point that out frequently just to piss Dean off. He wouldn’t have expected Dean to adapt to this situation so quickly. He tried to behave when Sam was in the room, but there was none of the shame or hiding that Sam had expected. Of course, they hadn’t really gone out anywhere together. But he was comfortable at home. Sam even caught him grinning when Cas called him Freckles. He tried to play like he didn’t care about the nickname but he obviously liked it.

 

They were even cute when they were sparring. Cas really wanted to train so he could go on a hunt with them. Dean wasn’t keen on the idea of Cas coming along, but he was on board for the training. He’d never admit it but Cas usually kicked his ass. They didn’t hold back when they were fighting, but as soon as it was finished they’d be hovering over each other checking for injuries and making doe eyes.

 

Evidently Sam hadn’t gotten up early enough that morning, because he walked into the kitchen to find Cas bent over trying to retrieve ingredients from the fridge while Dean was basically humping him from behind. He had his hands on Cas’s hips and every time the smaller man would reach for something he’d thrust against him. They were both _giggling_.

 

“Dean, stop. I’m going to drop the eggs!"

 

Dean spotted Sam in the doorway and immediately spun around to go sit at the table. He was a bit red in the face but he still had a goofy grin stuck on his face. Cas grabbed the rest of the items he needed and went to work frying up eggs and bacon. He’d been trying to learn all the little domestic human things like cooking and cleaning. He did well with simple recipes, so he had taken to making most of their meals. Dean seemed to really enjoy being taken care of.

 

Sam cleared his throat. “So, I found a case last night.”

 

“What ya got for us Sammy?”

 

“A vamp. Bout 4 hours drive from here. We could head out there today.”

 

“One vampire? When is it ever just one vampire?”

 

“Well there might be two or three. But it definitely seems like a small time operation.”

 

“I would like to come with you. I believe I’m ready.” Cas chimed in.

 

“I dunno Cas, you’ve got moves and you’re pretty good with a blade, but you still need to work on your marksmanship. Maybe next time.”

 

“Dean, I don’t need a firearm to dispatch vampires. I’m sure decapitating them will suffice.”

 

“I just don’t think you’re ready yet.”

 

“Dean, we’ve spoken about this before. You will never think I’m ‘ready’. I can’t stay in the bunker for the rest of my life. I’m coming with you.”

 

“Fine. But if you get hurt I’ll kill both of you.”

 

“You wouldn’t kill either of us Dean. I can’t promise I won’t get injured at all, but nothing life threatening. You have my word.”

 

After breakfast they all went about packing their duffels and stocking the impala’s trunk with the appropriate equipment. Dean grumbled under his breath the entire time, but they managed to get on the road before noon. Sam offered to ride in the back but Cas refused. “We’re going on a hunt Sam, you should be in the front with Dean, where you belong.”

 

**********

 

One vampire, eight vampires, same difference right? The trio had staked out a little run down house on the outskirts of town. There was only one vampire coming in and out of the house, and they never saw any other figures through the dimly lit windows. When they burst in the back door to find eight of the fuckers it really shouldn’t have come as a surprise. That was usually how it went these days, it was always worse than they expected.

 

What they didn’t expect was for Cas to turn into a machete wielding tornado of death. Sam and Dean were still putting down their first vamps while Cas had decapitated the other six. Dean turned away from the finally lifeless body he’d just created and surveyed the room.

 

“Holy shit Feathers.”

 

“I am no longer holy, and I would say this is more bloody than shitty.”

 

Dean grinned “You’re one bad ass mother fucker.”

 

“I have never ‘fucked’ any one’s mother, and I was under the impression I had a good ass. Do you not like my ass, Freckles?”

 

“You’re learning to be a smartass a lot faster than I expected.”

 

Sam groaned and rolled his eyes. “Can we just get this cleaned up and go home?”

 

“I kinda figured we’d stay at a motel tonight and head back in the morning.” He waggled his eyebrows. “We’ll get two rooms.”

 

 


	18. Dean's Boy Toy

 

Sam wakes late the next morning. It’s almost ten. They’ll have to get going soon if they don’t want to get charged for another night. He throws on his clothes and quickly crams his things back into his bag before strolling down to the other end of the building and rapping on the door of Dean and Cas’s room. Dean swings the door open with a big grin on his face. “Ayyy Sammy! Bout time you roll outta bed. We got breakfast!” He gestures behind him to the small table laden with take out bags.

Sam can’t remember the last time he saw Dean this happy. The guy’s got the biggest doofy grin plastered across his face, and he’s so grateful to see him smiling that he can’t bring himself to pick on him. Not yet at least. Gotta let the guy enjoy himself for a little bit before that starts. So breakfast goes pretty smoothly. The three of them are talking and laughing - and it’s nice being able to relax and enjoy the moment with out having to get wasted first.

The car ride home goes pretty smooth too, for the most part. Cas still hasn’t completely gotten used to his human body and he doesn’t seem to understand that if you drink 32 oz of Mountain Dew, you’re gonna have to pee at least 6 times. So on bathroom break #4, Dean pulls over at a fast food joint and the brothers wait in the car while Cas practically runs inside to relieve himself.

Sam stares at Dean for a minute, watching Dean smile and tap his fingers on the wheel to the beat of ‘Gimme Three Steps’. He clears his throat and gets Dean’s attention. “So… Did you seal the deal yet?”

“Sammy… We’re having a nice day. Don’t ruin it.” He glares at Sam. “Since when do you want the details on my exploits?”

“I don’t, I really don’t. No details, please. It’s just- It really seems like things are going well for you two. I don’t want you fucking it up.”

“What do you mean fucking it up? I haven’t done anything!”

“Well I know Cas pretty well, not as well as you, but sometimes things go over your head and you don’t even notice.”

“Dude, everything’s fine. Whatever you think is going on, it’s not.”

“Well then when are you gonna take him out somewhere? After all the guy’s done for us - for you, the least you could do is give him a night on the town now and then. Guy‘s gonna think you‘re ashamed of him.”

“I am NOT ashamed of him. We’ve been fuckin busy! I was plannin on doing something when we get back.”

“Dude, we had plenty of down time the last couple weeks. We’re going out - tonight. You guys get cleaned up when we get home and we’re going to the bar. I’m picking the place and I’m driving! Don’t even argue.”

Dean throws up his hands “Fine with me Samantha. No need to throw a hissy fit. But you get my baby hurt and you’re a dead man.” He narrows his eyes at Sam. “Either one of them.”

  
******

They pull into a pub around 8 that night. Dean’ wearing his typical jeans/t-shirt/flannel combo, but they’re all crisp new ones and he looks pretty damn good - if he may say so himself. Cas has on a pair of Dean’s jeans that hang low on his hips and a red button up shirt with the sleeves rolled to his elbows, and of course he’s wearing the new black tie that Sam bought him. He got way too excited about that tie (Ooh, it’s black, I can wear it with anything!) Dean has to admit he kinda likes the tie though, he’s gotten use to that dorky over-dressed look that Cas pulls off so damn well.

They line up on stools at the bar and Sam starts ordering them rounds of shots. After the third round, he glances over to see Dean wrap his arm around Cas’s waist and give him a peck on the cheek. He can’t help but be proud of his big brother. He’s come a long way from the denial he’d been stewing in for so many years. Dean gets the bartender’s attention. “Hey my boyfriend wants a Mojito, and beers for me and my brother.”

Okay, so maybe Dean wasn’t embarrassed of his relationship with Cas. Like, not embarrassed _at all_. Cas was grinning ear to ear. He leaned in to Dean and whispered something in his ear and the two of them burst out giggling right there in the bar.

They were all three having a great time. Sam found a cute little redhead to chat up, and the lovebirds were still seated at the bar talking and giggling - Dean’s arm still slung around Cas’s waist.

Cas smiled brightly at Dean “This is definitely the best time I’ve ever had at a bar. But that might just because I’m here with my _boyfriend_ this time.”

Dean hears someone behind him snort derisively, but he ignores it. He’s having a good time and he’s not letting it get to him.

“I’m havin a good time too, Feathers.” He gives him another peck on the cheek.

“You call him feathers cause he’s a little fairy?”

Dean spins around in his seat to see a burly older guy staring at them. “Why don’t you just mind your own business?”

“Well you and your little fairy boy are puttin on a show aren’t cha? Nobody wants to see that shit.”

“Fairies don’t even have feathers jackass. Piss off.”

“Ain’t your little boy toy got anything to say for himself? You do all his talkin for him?”

Dean gets up from his seat, he’d been having such a good night, he really didn’t want to get thrown out, but… “Fuck off old man.” Dean shoves the guy, just a little.

“Oh my, I’m shakin in my boots. Little bitch boy’s got his daddy here to protect him.”

Dean turns back towards Cas, and he’s got that look on his face. That _I’ll smite your ass into nonexistence_ look, and even without his mojo that look is still pretty damn scary. “What do you think, Cas? You need me to protect you?”

Cas doesn’t say a word. He rises slowly from his bar stool, and strides over between Dean and the dickhead. The guy looks like he’s about to laugh, or throw out another insult, when Cas punches him right square in the face.

With blood gushing down his face the guy stammers “Y-you, you b-broke my nose!” Cas turns to walk away and the guy gets brave once his back is turned. He doesn’t stand a chance. Cas spins back, catches the fist that had been trying to sucker punch him in one hand, and with the other hand he clocks the guy in the side of his head. Dickhead’s eyes roll back into his head and he collapses on to the floor.

Cas straightens his tie, and then turns to Dean with a tiny smirk curling the corners of his mouth. “I think it might be best if we take our leave now.”

Dean breaks out into his own grin. “That’s probably a good idea.”  
  
Sam had seen the whole thing and was already making his way towards the exit, with a grin spreading across his face as well.

 

 

 


	19. Cas Wants Pie

 

“Dean, I’m so sorry.” Castiel sighs and hangs his head in shame. “This was supposed to be something special and I ruined it. I’ve failed you Dean.”

Dean rubs his forehead with the back of his hand and lets out a soft laugh. “Don’t beat yourself up Feathers. Haven’t you ever heard the saying ‘It’s the thought that counts’? I’m honored that you even tried this. I mean it.”

The two of them stare down at the blackish brown sludge in the pie pan and Castiel puffs out a forelorn sigh. “I’m really disappointed that I ruined your gift, but I think I’m even more disappointed that I won’t get to eat any either.”

Dean bursts into a fit of chuckling. Castiel gives him that confused head tilt and furrows his brow. “Dean, why do you find my unhappiness so amusing?”

“Cas -heh- I -hehe- I never thought I’d see anyone else that upset about pie!”

Castiel pulls Dean into one of his octopus hugs, wrapping him in a tangle of limbs. “I’m sad, Freckles.” He makes big puppy eyes and pouts at Dean. “I really wanted some pie.”

  
**********

  
Later that evening Cas is lying in bed, he has his back propped up on some pillows and a book in his lap. Dean enters the room as quietly as he can, closing the door behind him and sneaking over towards his angel. Cas looks up from his book and notices Dean is holding his hands behind his back.

“Did you find the tools you were looking for?”

“I didn’t actually go to the hardware store, Cas. I was getting something for you.”

“Something for me? I assume that’s what your holding behind you?”

Dean sets a white cardboard box on the bedside table. “Go ahead, open it.”

Castiel gingerly lifts the lid of the box and is immediately overcome with the smell of strawberries and rhubarb. “You got me a pie? My favorite kind of pie. Where did you even find this flavor? I’ve never seen it in the grocery store.”

Dean blushes a bit and rubs at the back of his neck. “I had to call in a favor. I’ve been sworn to secrecy about who made it, but that is a genuine home made strawberry rhubarb pie.”

“Aww Freckles,” Cas grins mischievously “I feel so _special_.”

“Alright, alright. Now shut up so we can eat this thing!”

**********

  
The pie is long gone, and Dean is lying flat on the bed in a post-pie haze of pure bliss. Castiel rolls over towards him and slides a hand across his stomach, fingers grazing under the hem of his shirt. “I like this side of you Freckles. I like that I’m the only one who gets to see it.”

“What side would that be?”

“The side that allows himself to be romantic. The guy that brings his boyfriend dessert and then feeds it to him bite by bite. I feel that we can both just be ourselves when we’re together. Even with my wings, I’ve never felt more free.”

Dean smiles up at him. “I love you too Feathers. And me and Sammy are gonna get you your wings back.”

Cas sighs and slides his hand slowly up to Dean’s chest. “I don’t need them to be happy.” Before Dean can protest, Cas claims his lips in a heated kiss.

No more words are passed between them for a long time, just panted breaths and soft moans as their tongues struggle for dominance. Castiel lets his hands roam over every inch of skin he can reach, caressing every blemish and scar like a cherished treasure.

Eventually Cas breaks their mouths apart and skims his teeth down Dean’s neck, pausing to nip at the soft flesh. Dean whispers his name “ _Castiel_ ” And it’s the sweetest sound he’s ever heard. His lazy caresses become more urgent, and he finds himself peeling Dean’s shirt off so his has more flesh to devour.

Castiel can’t help but lament as he slowly undresses them both, piece by piece. He wants Dean so much he’s aching for him. He wants to feel the hunter thrusting inside of him, but he knows Dean isn’t ready for that yet. They’ve grown more intimate as the weeks have rolled by, but he yearns for more. But he can wait. He can wait until Dean is ready, but he desperately wonders how long it will be.

Instead, he straddles Dean’s legs and wraps a hand around both of their shafts. Dean wraps his hand over top of Castiel’s and together they set a slow, steady pace. As they gradually build speed, Castiel can’t control the soft moans that curl out of his throat. He can feel the heat coiling in him, and he collapses on top of Dean. Both of their hands fall away as they grind themselves together, and Dean moans out “Oh, fuck, I love you” as he cums between them. Castiel’s release is so intense he can’t form words. As the waves of ecstasy wash over him he manages to grunt Dean’s name between huffed breaths.

After they’ve cleaned each other off, Castiel lays down with his back to Dean and reaches back to pull the other man’s arm over him. Dean snuggles in against his back and sighs into the side of his neck. They don’t need words right now.

It’s really a good thing they don’t need words because despite the euphoric haze enveloping them, Castiel’s guilt is bearing down on him. He knows that Dean and Sam have to have noticed by now how little input he has when they strategize about how to restore his grace. He’s tried to lie as little as possible, but he’s been lying by omission. He’s known exactly what happened to his grace this whole time, but he can’t bring himself to tell them. They won’t understand. They’ll still want to search for it. Dean won’t be willing to accept that fact that Castiel doesn’t want his grace restored. He doesn’t want to be an angel any more.

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Cas's favorite pie is strawberry rhubarb because that's my favorite. And if you're wondering who made it - it was Bobby. (I never decided at what point in the timeline this story would branch off from the show, but Bobby is somehow alive because I love him and I said so.)
> 
> Also, I suck at smut. My apologies.


	20. The Truth

 

  
Cas wakes to find that the other side of the bed is empty. He runs his hand across the sheets where Dean had slept, and they were cool to the touch. Dean must have left quite a while ago. He slumps back into the bed, burrowing his face into the pillow. It’s a struggle to tamp down the little voice in the back of his mind that whispers _He slipped between your fingers while you slept, he’s changed his mind and he’ll never let you in again._ No. It’s not possible. They’ve come too far for that. There were plenty of reasonable explanations for Dean’s absence.

His limbs are still heavy from slumber, but he heaves his legs over the edge of the bed and sits up. As he’s rubbing his eyes with his knuckles, he hears faint voices drifting down the hall. A breath of relief stutters between his lips. Dean is with Sam. They must have gotten an early start on their research. Cas rifles through the dresser drawers and finds some of Dean’s clothes that will fit him. The smell like whiskey, leather and spice. There’s also just the faintest hint of smoke that lingers despite all the times the garments have been laundered. His hunter had spent a lot of time burning bodies.

The trace of smoke causes his heart to swell and split in unison. That smell is a reminder of all the monsters his beloved has had to face down in his young life, and of all the people he’s lost along the way. It’s also a reminder of what makes Dean who he his. He wishes he could undo every injury, every moment of fear, and every goodbye. At the same time he realizes that every thing Dean has been through has formed him into the beautifully damaged creature that he is. The broken angel and his broken hunter. Their shattered fragments fit together like the pieces of a puzzle. Together they were not two crippled beasts, but one powerful force of light and love.

Cas’s musings are disrupted by the sound of those voices down the hall gaining volume. He still can’t make out what they’re saying but it seems that the boys are arguing now. He slides his feet into a pair of slippers and makes his way to them as swiftly as he can with out actually running down the hall. He slows to a stop just out of view from the common room, from which the voices seem to be coming.

“Sam, we’re running out of options here!”

  
“You don’t think I know that? But this isn’t a good plan! I thought we agreed to stop doing stupid shit to save each other.”

“I said I wouldn’t doing anything stupid to save _you_ I never said I wouldn’t risk everything for _him_.”

  
“We both know god damn well that he would NOT be okay with this!”

“That’s why we need to get started now, and we can tell him when it’s done.”

Cas walks around the corner into their line of sight. “Tell me _what_ , exactly?”

“Good fuckin job, Sam.” Dean mutters as he throws his arms in the air. He immediately turns and stamps down the hall away from them. Cas levels a searing glare on Sam and waits impatiently for an explanation.

“He wants to summon every angel and demon we can think of and interrogate them one by one until they reveal the location on your grace.”

“What? No. NO!” Cas runs from the room, following Dean’s path. He searches every room until he finally finds the man sitting cross legged in the middle of the dungeon floor with his face buried in his hands. He enters the room cautiously, taking slow calculated strides toward Dean’s slumped form.

“I can’t let you do this Dean. It’s too dangerous.”

“I have to do something, Cas, I can’t let you suffer. I have to help you. There’s nothing else left to do!”

Sam had followed Cas, afraid that the lovebirds might get violent in their ensuing argument. It wouldn’t be the first time the two had come to blows, but he hopes that’s different now. He’s leaning on the door frame listening to them, but neither man has noticed his presence.

“Dean, I am _not_ suffering. I know it’s taken me a while to get used to my humanity, but I’ve never been happier. I have you here to teach me, to comfort me. I couldn’t ask for more than that.”

Cas feels his eyes beginning to sting as the first tear threatens to roll down his cheek. “Dean I… I haven’t been entirely honest with you.”

Dean finally lifts his head and stares at Cas with a furrowed brow. “What do you mean?”

“I uh… My grace wasn’t… My grace wasn’t taken from me. And it didn’t ‘fizzle out’ either. I handed it over willingly.”

“Why? Why would you do that?”

“Dean.” Cas pauses and swipes his hand down his face. “Dean, I was approached by one of my eldest brothers. He gave me a choice. He told me that I would never be able to truly embrace my feelings of love as long as I was an angel. Angels are capable of loyalty, devotion, adoration and worship. Love however, is a human emotion. He said that it was my decision. I could continue on as things were but I’d never really understand my feelings for you - or I could surrender my grace and live as a human. I handed it over without a second thought.”

Dean’s jaw was clenched so tight that the muscles were twitching. “Cas, no. You can’t do this for _me_. You’ve given up too much already. You can’t really want to be human, and I’m not worth giving up being a god damn angel!”

“This is WHY I DIDN’T TELL YOU! I knew you wouldn’t listen to me! I made this decision _after you pushed me away._ I knew that even if you never let me in again, that I would rather be able to feel my own unfulfilled desire for you, than to wield the full might of my grace and have my emotions stifled by it.”

Sam suddenly feels guilty for listening in, and retreats from the doorway - still without either man realizing he was ever there. He hopes Dean will come around, but he is damn stubborn - especially when it comes to his self loathing.

Cas grips Dean by his chin and forces the man to look him in the eye. “Dean, I have always loved you even when I couldn’t possibly understand what that meant. I would do anything for you, and it’d be worth it no matter the cost. But I didn’t give up my grace for you. I did this for myself, because it was what I wanted. I haven’t regretted my decision for even one second.”

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I can't believe this is almost over :(


	21. Castiel Winchester

 

  
Cas is pacing back and forth in the common room. He’s been at it for over an hour, and Sam has thought a few times now that he’d seen a tiny thread of smoke drifting up from the carpet. Dean is in the bedroom with the door locked tight. Occasionally Cas will stop pacing and go to knock on the door, but he hasn’t gotten a single word in response. Sam realizes with a exasperated sigh that it’s once again up to the little brother to fix the mess. He leaves Cas to burn through the carpet and goes to knock on the bedroom door.

“Dean, it’s me.” there’s only silence. “You can’t stay in there forever Dean. You’re gonna have to talk to one of us.”

Watching Cas walk his monotonous circuit had been driving him a bit nuts, so Sam retreats to his own room and sits on the foot of the bed. He pulls his cell out his pocket and brings up the text messages between him and his brother.

After deliberating for a few minutes, he brings up a picture he’d taken recently. It’s a shot of Dean and Cas snuggled up into the corner of the couch, watching a movie. Dean has his chin on top of Cas’s head and he looks completely calm. Sam had never seen him that relaxed before this whole thing with Cas. Now he got to see it all the time. The fallen angel was snuggled so tight against Dean that it looked like he was trying to wear him as a coat. Cas had his eyes shut, and an easy, lazy smile. Sam had originally taken the picture to tease his brother with, but once he really looked at it he couldn’t. Dean was actually _cuddling_ with his _boyfriend_ and Cas was completely ignoring the movie, he was just basking in the warmth of his ‘beloved’. The picture was too damn cute for him to ruin it by teasing them.

He sends the picture to Dean with a text.

**\--He doesn’t look like he’s suffering to me. You both look pretty damn happy.--**

It’s been almost half an hour when Sam’s phone buzzes.

**\--I can’t let him do this for me Sam. It’s too much.--**

Sam sighs and rolls his eyes.

**\--You’re not ‘letting him’ do anything. It’s already done. Remember what I told you before? Let him make his own decisions.--**

He doesn’t get a response to that one.

  
**********

The next time Cas goes to knock at the door, he tries the knob and finds it’s been unlocked. He opens the door and enters cautiously, very aware of the possibility that he might be assaulted with flying projectiles. When he’s inside with the door shut behind him, he spots Dean in the corner. He’s hunched up in a little ball, rubbing his temples.

Cas goes to him, and with out a word he coaxes him to stand up and guides him over to the bed. Once they’re both seated on the edge of the mattress, Cas leans over and places a gentle kiss to Dean’s brow.

“I’m sorry Cas.” Dean sputters. “I’m- I- I just… Is this really what you want?”

  
“Yes, it is. I wouldn’t have done it if I wasn’t absolutely sure.”

“You really wanna give up everything? What about the other angels? Will you still get to see your family?”

“They can come visit me if they wish. I’m not that concerned whether they do or not. They’re just a bunch of dicks with wings. And I get to see my family every day. You and Sam are my family now.”

Dean blushes as he lifts his head to meet Cas’s gaze. “You really think you’re ready to be a Winchester? It’s not as glamorous as it looks.”

Cas reaches over and twines their fingers together. “I’m not sure if that’s meant to be a proposal, but if it is, then yes. I would be very happy to take your last name when we get married.”

Dean shrugs. “Well if you’re accepting it then yeah, I guess it is. I’m thinking long engagement though. I wanna make sure we do this right. You wanna be my fiancé for a while?”

Cas holds up his left hand up and wiggles the fingers. “If you want it, then you’ll have to put a ring on it.”

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had planned on this being the last chapter but I've decided to split it into two chapters, so there's still one more coming.


	22. Potato!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The chapter title will make sense once you read it!

 

  
Dean and Castiel have been engaged for more than 6 months now, and things are going really good for the trio. They still go on hunts when they get the itch to go gank something, but most of the time they delegate the work. The three of them haven’t slowed down, they’ve just changed paths.

The bunker is no longer the Men of Letters bunker, it’s the ‘Winchester Society HQ’. Dean still calls it the Bat Cave. They’ve developed an extensive network of qualified hunters that spans the globe. Dean spends most of his time training the hunters in hand-to-hand combat and firearms. The other two help with the training classes when they can.

Sam and Cas are usually busy with their little nerd brigade. They have a little team of computer dorks that are constantly expanding and updating the extensive online database they’ve developed. The official name is ‘The Supernatural Encyclopedia’ but of course Dean has his own name for it - ‘Monster Hunting for Dummies’

The best part of all this (as far as Sam is concerned) Is that he’d convinced Cas to watch the Harry Potter films with him, and ever since Cas has been referring to all the normal people who are ignorant of the magic and monsters, as ‘muggles’. After Cas started saying it, it caught on. Pretty much every hunter was using the term now - and Dean _hated_ it.

The second best part, is that the three of them are together and not risking their lives every day trying to keep each other alive. They’re still technically in ‘the life’, but they’re pretty domesticated now. Sam even found himself a girl. Well, technically Castiel found Sam a girl, but Sam won’t admit that. He and Tilly (don’t you dare call her by her full name, Matilda) had only been together a couple weeks but things seemed to be getting serious really fast.

 

**********

 

It was only 5 am, but Sam was already up and having his morning coffee. He liked to get in and out of the kitchen before every one else got up. They almost always had hunters staying there for training, and the kitchen could get pretty damn crowded.

He looked up in surprise when he heard some one shuffling through the doorway. “Hey Cas, what are you doing up so early?”

“I needed to speak with you in private. That has become very difficult lately.”

“Well it’s just us for now, what’s on your mind?”

“I need a promise from you first. This is a very personal issue and I have to have your word that you won’t tease Dean. He will be very upset that I sought your council, but I have no one else I can turn to.”

“I know I pick on him a lot, but if it’s something serious I can control myself. I promise, no teasing.”

“Ok. Well, we’ve been intimate in many other ways, but Dean refuses have intercourse with me. I don’t know how to persuade him.”

Sam sputters and spits coffee on the table. “Wha- WHAT? You guys have been together this long and you still haven’t had sex?”

“As I said, we have been intimate in other ways, but Dean seems to be afraid of doing anything that involves ‘butt-stuff’. Every time I bring it up he changes the subject or makes excuses that he doesn‘t wish to hurt me.”

“I - uh… Let me think for a minute.” Sam walks to the counter and refills his coffee mug. He returns to his chair and plops down with a sigh. “Alright, so we both know Dean is stubborn. You can’t just talk him into it… I can’t believe I’m having this conversation with you.”

He rubs his temples and continues “Maybe you should take control. You do all the uh… prep work… ahead of time. And you be the one doing the work. That way he won’t have to think about it too much.”

“I’m sorry Sam I’m not exactly sure what you mean.”

“Oh dear lord Cas, are you gonna make me spell it out?!”

Cas just blushes and stares at him with those sad blue eyes.

“Fine! You have to stretch yourself out before hand so Dean won’t have to think about your butthole! And then you climb on top of him and ride him into the sunset. He won’t have to worry he’s hurting you if you’re in control.”

Sam grabs his coffee and storms down the hall. “If that doesn’t work I can’t help you! I don’t want to talk about this ever again!”

 

**********

 

Dean is lying in bed waiting patiently for Cas to emerge from their bathroom. He’s been in there for a good 15 minutes and Dean’s really starting to wonder what he’s doing. Just as he’s about to call out to him, the door swings open and Cas leans against the frame in nothing but his boxers.

“Hey sexy, you gonna come get in this bed with me at some point?”

“I have something special in mind for tonight, Freckles. I’ve been letting you take charge for far too long. Tonight I want _you_ to listen to _me_. Can you do that? Can you be good for me Dean?”

The thought of Cas bossing him around is more of a turn on than Dean would have anticipated. As his blood rushes south, he grins and growls out “Yes, sir.”

“If at any point you want me to stop, you can say the word ‘Potato’. Are you ready?”

Dean gives him a raised eyebrow for the choice in safe word, but his voice is low and rough when he replies. “Yes, please.”

“Touch yourself for me.”

Dean slowly slides a hand down his chest and then runs the palm over the bulge in his boxers, never breaking eye contact.

“Like this?”

“Yes Dean, that’s good. Very good. Now I want you naked.”

Dean slides his boxers down his legs so slowly that Cas is in physical pain from the anticipation.

“Do not tease me Dean, or I’ll be forced to punish you.”

Dean pauses when the waistband is around his knees. He smirks evilly at Cas as he runs one finger under the elastic.

“Dean.” Cas warns, but Dean continues to play with the waistband.

Cas strides over to the bed and stands next to it. “Roll over.” Dean does as he’s told, and once he’s flat on his stomach Cas gives him one sharp slap across his ass.

“What the fuck, Cas?”

“I told you I would punish you. Now do as you’re told. Boxers, off, NOW.”

Dean quickly flips onto his back and kicks the offending garment off, flinging it to the floor.

“Do not move.”

Cas climbs onto the bed and straddles Dean’s waist. He grinds himself down against Dean’s groin and the hunter instinctually bucks his hips. Cas shoves his pelvis back down against the mattress with both hands. “Do NOT move, Dean.”

Cas leans down and sucks the tender flesh of Dean’s throat between his teeth. He resumes grinding his pelvis down in slow, languid motions.

“So good for me.” Cas breathes desperately.

Dean is struggling with his body’s desperate desire to thrust and writhe under Cas’s weight.

Cas leans up slightly, and he grabs Dean’s hair to gently pull the other man’s head to his chest. “Lick.” Dean obeys, twirling his tongue around the pink nub of Cas’s nipple.

Cas eases himself forward a few inches, and then reaches behind him to give Dean’s dick a few soft strokes. “So hard for me.” He holds the shaft firmly and guides himself back until the tip is pushing into his entrance.

Dean’s eyes fly open in surprise, but before he can manage to protest, Cas pushes himself further down over his throbbing cock. All he manages is a weak “Casss?” Cas ignores it. He slides himself slowly down until he’s flat against Dean.

“P-Pa-potato! Potato, potato!”

  
Cas sighs, but stops. He remains perfectly still as he looks down into Dean’s face.

“Do you really want to stop now?”

“It’s just- Cas I- What’s gotten into you?!”

“A very large penis.” Cas deadpans.

Dean chuckles, but then meets Cas’s eyes with determination “I don’t want to stop. I just… it’s our first time, I’d rather we just be ourselves for now.”

“I’m sorry Dean, I just thought this way would make it easier for you.”

“It did Cas, thank you. But let’s be us for now? We can get kinky another night.”

“Can I move now? I really feel like I need to move.”

“Yes, fuck. Please!”

Cas begins to rock his hips tentatively. He gets used to the motion and quickly builds confidence in his movements. Soon he’s set a dizzying pace. Every breathy moan and throaty growl he manages to pull from Dean’s lips spurs him on faster. And he can’t stop mumbling. “Good, so good Dean. Fuck! So big. So fuckin hard.”

When Dean can’t control himself any longer, he starts pushing wildly up into Cas, meeting every thrust with his own. They’ve lost all rhythm but their bodies are still in time with each other, matching every move. Dean comes first, half blinded with pleasure and moaning Castiel’s name. When he comes back to his senses, he reaches up to stroke Cas, and it only takes a few before Cas is tumbling over the edge with him.

Once they’ve cleaned up, they lay tangled together under the sheets. “Castiel, that was by far the best orgasm I’ve ever had. You are amazing.”

“Thank you, Dean. You were quite wonderful too.”

“How did you do that though? Didn’t it hurt?”

“I took the liberty of preparing myself before hand, to make it easier for you. I hope in the future you will be more comfortable with being intimate in this way, because I would much rather have your fingers in me than my own.”

Dean moans softly and runs his thumb down Cas’s jaw. “I think I’m gonna get used to this real quick.”

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well. That's it. This is the end. I'm kinda sad now. Please comment and let me know how I did!


End file.
